


Like a storm, except not really

by Galacteddy



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Jack is jelly, Jack is salty, Metaphors, gabriel has a soft spot for jesse, he's also bad at metaphors, jesse is in puppy love for gabriel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-17 02:08:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8126348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galacteddy/pseuds/Galacteddy
Summary: Jack is salty because Gabriel and Jesse are friends and he feels left out.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is even worse than my other fic. Again, unbeta'd. Again, it sucks. For the record, I don't like Jack at all.  
> [edited because lmao I forgot it was gen and put a swear word there. sorry!]

He likes to tell himself that it's not jealousy, while he reads for the fifth time a report from Blackwatch's last mission. But the thought of Gabriel having found a replacement for him so quickly just makes his blood boil. He knows he has no right to feel what he's feeling, considering it's completely his fault that Gabriel has stopped speaking to him outside of a work context. And yet, there he is, running a hand through his cropped blonde hair and tossing away the report.  
How did the kid (is Jesse a kid, though? His eighteenth birthday was months ago) even manage to gain Reyes' favors this fast anyway? It took Jack months to only get the older soldier to say hi back to him when they met in the hallways of the SEP facility, and McCree is already getting guitar lessons in his spare time. From Gabriel, who's never let anyone touch his guitar.

A sigh escapes Jack's mouth as he gets up and shrugs his blue coat on. Might as well go take a breath of air, to calm his nerves.  
He can't do anything, from his position. Jesse isn't a member of Overwatch, and is under Gabriel's custody. He's untouchable. But then again Jack isn't that petty, he wouldn't send him away only for being a better match to Reyes than he was.  
The balconies on the base of Gibraltar all face the cliff side, and when Jack looks down there's the ocean roaring back at him. He frowns slightly, and leans against the railing with his head in his palm. He should have serious matters in his mind, not childish jealousy over lost friends.  
And yet here he is, thinking of how Gabriel laughs when Jesse says something funny (or is it offensive?) in Spanish. Of the way Jesse looks when he makes Gabriel laugh, as if he's done something amazing, and he can't help but watch Gabriel ruffling the kid's hair with a grin, Jesse's eyes sparkling.

Now that he actually thinks about it, Jesse is like a puppy. Always doing whatever Gabriel tells him, always following him close behind, soaking up all Gabriel has to teach him like some sort of dry sponge. The way his face lights up when Gabriel praises him for a job well done, a higher bullseye count at the practice range, a report that doesn't have southern slang in it. Jack is sure that if Jesse had a tail he'd be wagging it every time Gabriel walked into a room.  
Maybe that's why Gabriel likes him. He's finally got someone to worship him like the hero he believes himself to be (he'd never admit than to his eyes too Gabriel is a hero).

It's terribly easy to forget how deadly Jesse actually is, when he unironically wears a "BAMF" belt buckle and speaks like he's out of a movie of a century ago. Jack has only ever seen him fight twice. The first time was when they arrested Deadlock's gang members, and Jesse was a devil and a half to catch. He killed fifteen excellent soldiers with only an old revolver in his hand. Both him and Ana couldn't believe their eyes when they saw the weapon.  
And the second time was more recent, when he was fighting in the practice range. They managed to make a sort of simulation room where one can set up matches and drills for practice, in a safe manner so if anyone "dies" they get respawned and nobody actually gets hurt.

Jack knows the way Gabriel fights. His fighting style is precise and deadly, getting close enough so that his shotguns can do the most damage.  
But Jesse? Jesse has the most unique fighting style he's ever seen. His sharp eyes assess situations and react to them so fast it almost looks like he's slowing time to pull off the things he does. He prefers fighting from further away, so that he can aim for headshots from safe distance. When he can't stay far enough, he doesn't panic at all, instead he stuns his opponent and fans the hammer of his revolver. If he doesn't land his shot, he rolls away, reloads and comes back just as powerful.  
He looks the least like a kid with his gun in his hand.

The salty wind feels pleasant, but smells of the storm Winston said was coming. Jack doesn't like storms, and he never has. It used to mess up the crops back home, and it made the ground muddy and harder to walk on. He prefers the warm sun over the pouring rain and lightning.  
He's heard Jesse mention that he doesn't mind the rain at all. But that when he was small he was scared of storms, but he liked watching them. They were loud and scary and often created tornadoes.

Looking at the glittering blue waves, he feels poetic enough to think of metaphors too, even though he's never been good at poetic stuff.  
He thinks of Gabriel as a storm. And he thinks of how he's always seen them as something mighty, that he's gotta be careful around. As something that ruins what's fragile with his lightning and wind. But that works as a last measure, because water is still water during the dry hot season. He's a necessary evil that he's found a way to use to his advantage.  
A pang of guilt hits Jack's chest as soon as that crosses his mind. He ignores it.

And to Jesse, storms were something to look forward to. Something so much bigger and mightier than him that he couldn't help but stare. He admires the power of them, and doesn't mind them destroying the fragile things around him, because he knows that even if it wrecks some things, it still brings water. It has odd and violent ways to deliver what's good for the land.  
McCree grew up in the desert, Jack recalls. Any kind of rain must have felt like a blessing to him. And so Gabriel was a blessing to Jesse, coming down pouring on the red sand to sate the thirsty earth. The storm, even with its harsh winds, brings life to what was dying under the unforgiving sun. And McCree is kinda scared and full of admiration for the storm.

Or maybe Jesse hasn't really seen the cruel side of storms? Maybe- Jack stops himself before his thoughts drift to things he doesn't actually think are true. He knows Gabriel like the back of his hand, or at least he likes to think that he does.  
He's not a storm, he's just a man. Reyes' got his flaws and he's got his strong points. Jack shakes his head and wonders why did he even start thinking about metaphors when he knows he's bad at that kind of things.

He looks in the distance at the darkening clouds one last time and gets back inside. He's still got reports to read and papers to sign, this is not the time for daydreaming. Storms are storms and people are people.


End file.
